They had some sense of fair play, however.  They returned their swords to the scabbards, and were for trusting to their fists alone.  I contrived to give one of them a smart tap on the crown before they came to close quarters; but ere I could recover myself they were upon me, the staff was wrenched from my grasp, and I was as hard put to it as a stag bayed by hounds.  I made what play I could with my fists, and got home at least one blow for two; but the odds were too heavy against me, and when at length a fellow as big as myself slipped round to my back and gripped me hard by the neck, all my struggles did not avail to prevent my being shoved and pulled and hustled out into the middle of the street.

Vetch had picked himself up, and now came running towards me in a frenzy.  In his rage he had plucked off his mask, revealing his distorted features to all the good folk who, I doubt not, by this time had their heads out at their windows, viewing the scene from a secure altitude.

“Out of the way, Mytton!” he screamed, his voice shrill with passion.  “Out of the way, I say; I will crop his ears, the cur!”

Burt Mytton, the fellow who had me by the neck, and some others of the band, were not for pushing things to such extremities.  They closed about to protect me, and even Dick Cludde caught Vetch’s arm and expostulated with him.  Another meanwhile had snatched old Ivimey’s rattle from him, and ever and anon amid the din I caught the sound of his quavering voice calling, “Help for the watch!  O my sakes!  O my bones!”

Then a cry arose: 

“To the river!  Give ’em a ducking!” and in another moment there we were, myself and Ivimey, being lugged at a quick scuffle down the street towards the Severn.  There was no hope of escape, and I had resigned myself to the imminent bath, when at a turn in the narrow roadway we found the path blocked by two pedestrians.

With Mytton’s hand forcing my head downwards I did not at first see them, but I heard a loud voice call, “Hold, rascals!” breaking in upon the watchman’s feeble cry, “O my sakes!  Help for the watch!”

“Out of the way!” cried Vetch; but the next moment I heard a clatter of steel upon the cobbles; and guessed that the stranger had struck my enemy’s sword from his hand.  Then my neck was released, and looking up I saw my captor himself captive in the grip of a tall man in riding cloak and high boots, while Vetch was struggling with a short, thick-set fellow who had his arms about the other’s body.

Bullies are ever cowards at heart, and the rest of the band, finding the tables thus turned upon them, had taken to their heels and disappeared into the night.

“Let me go, hound!” yelled Vetch, and at the answer I started with a thrill of pleasure.

“Let ye go!  Not for all the aldermen in the country.  ’Twas your tricks drove me out of Shrewsbury, and seemingly ye’re at ’em still.  You ha’nt learnt your lesson, Master Vetch; more fool you.”